


Promise You the Stars and the Moon Too?

by little_ogre



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal, Painkillers, Peter never asked for any of this, drunk yondu is fun yondu, neither did anyone else come to think of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 15:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11717493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_ogre/pseuds/little_ogre
Summary: Peter has always supposed Yondu avoided painkillers because they make him a mean bastard. This may not be the case.





	Promise You the Stars and the Moon Too?

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe that I've written fic for the first time in seven years and its this trash.

Once the Eclector back was on her course again, safely hidden in the static under the rings of a small planet and the last cursory repairs finished; the welders still spitting sparks on the bridge, Kraglin decided he’d better swing by the med bay and see if the Cap’n was still alive.  The last he had seen of Yondu he was dragged off to the med bay by Quill, one arm hooked around his shoulder and the other vainly trying to stem the blood flow from the hole in his side, still barking orders and whistles. The raid on a wealthy, waddling merchant’s ship had gone tolerably well, excepting the part where one of the broadsides had pierced the ship’s side and ten of the hired muscle from the merchant ship had managed to board and the captain had gotten stabbed in the gut.

 

Kraglin had a plasma burn on his arm, a couple of bruised ribs and what felt like one hell of a shiner, but nothing that couldn’t wait until the dead were buried (or at least ejected through the airlock), the holes in the hull patched, the new cargo stored, and maintenance underway. His shift had ended and the crew left on the bridge were all old hands and could keep the ship on course while he popped down to the med bay just to check they still had a captain.

 

Doc, a tiny squid-like female, her four eyes like dark ink drops and her color changing under the flourescent lights, gave him antiseptic cream for the eye and slapped a freeze-ease band aid on the burn and declared she couldn’t do much about his ribs and Kraglin shrugged, he’d fractured his ribs often enough to know there weren’t a whole lot to do about it.

 

“How’s the cap’n?”

 

“Sleeping it off. Had to give him sedatives to operate.” She inclined her head towards a bunk in the back.

 

“He won’t like that, hates the damn things.”

 

“He would have liked having surgery without anesthesia even worse, believe me. He had a hole straight through his gut, that sort of thing tends to make a fella squirm a little,” Doc crossed her tentacles, turning a pale shade of blue in disapproval. Even Yondu, stubborn bastard that he was, gave Doc her own way in the infirmary as it didn’t quite do to have a person like that pissed off at you, in case you needed their help quick-like, the next time you came by holding your large intestine in with your hand. And as Kraglin knew that the captain had both had bones set and stitches without much more than a swig of moonshine the fact that Doc had got fed up enough to actually sedate him this time, and against his expressed wishes, spoke volumes. 

“He’ll be awake in a bit, in case you want to take him with you. More space for me down here if you do.”

Kraglin scratched the back of his neck. “If you think he’s good to go I guess I could lug him up to his cabin, let him sleep it off in private. “

“Go, take him,” Doc waved her tentacles, “I don’t want to see either of you for at least a month.” She pointed him towards a bunk in the back, Peter plonked next to it on a chair poking at his music box.

  


The sound of footsteps made Peter look up, Kraglin looked like he’d seen better days. He had a bruise on the side of his face that promised to turn black and then all sorts of interesting colours. Peter himself had been lucky and only had a few cuts and scratches and nothing that required anything more than a butterfly band aid or two. Yondu had been trying to heave himself up from the gurney and get back to the bridge right up to the point where Doc calmly jabbed a needle in his neck and sedated him. To say that there was an “operation theatre” would be greatly overestimating the matter, as there only was a shower curtain that Peter himself had stolen since he couldn’t bear to get his space- flu injections next to somebody who was having their kidneys (or alien equivalent thereof) removed. Nevertheless, Yondu was wheeled away, the shower curtain drawn and after about an hour he was returned, still out cold. Peter had been sitting next to him since, playing _I Fooled Around and Fell In Love_ softly, mostly because he didn’t really have anywhere to be and it was reasonably quiet here. Not because he wanted to make sure Yondu was all right or anything like that. As long as he was sitting here nobody could order him to scrub the bogs or peel a vat of yuba fruit. Kraglin looked like he came straight from the bridge though, and still smelled a little of oil and smoke and a whole lot like sweat and unwashed. Kraglin peered at Yondu and then at Peter.

 

“He still asleep?”

 

“Like the dead,” Peter said and then flustered at Kraglin’s sharp look. “Well, obviously not like the dead, but you know. Like somebody dosed with horse tranquilizers.”

 

“Kid, I still ain’t got no idea what a horse is,” Kraglin muttered and absently poked Yondu’s cheek, with a healthy disregard for his own personal safety as it was nothing the captain would take kindly to was he even half awake. Yondu didn’t react much, and just continued to snore. Kraglin sighed and hooked the other chair with his foot and sat down heavily.

 

“As soon as he’s awake we’re taking him back to his own cabin and he can sleep it off in peace and quiet,” he informed Peter. See, he knew that sooner or later somebody would find him an unpleasant task.

 

It didn’t take too long before Yondu woke up, cracking his eyelids open and peered at them.

“How you doing there, sir? Doc says she nearly operated you back to front, being as she can’t tell your backside from your face,” Kraglin greeted him, but he said it quite gently and his hand unconsciously brushed Yondu’s leg in a reassuring gesture. Yondu’s eyes fluttered for a second, found him and very slowly swam into focus.

 

“Well, _hell-o_ there sailor,” he said with an appreciative leer, and Kraglin jerked back as if he’d been scalded.

 

“Whoa there boss, slow down. Still a bit under the influence, I think.”

 

Peter just cracked up, laughing until he nearly fell off his chair. Kraglin’s ears turned pink and he treated Peter to a yellow-toothed snarl, which didn’t have much effect. Getting Yondu out of the bed was a pain, it was halfway between trying to wrangle a ragdoll and a bag full of liquid.

 

“There boss, up you go,” Kraglin said once they had managed to get him sitting, locating his boots from somewhere under the bunk (not a task for a person with a sensitive nose) and started putting them on his feet. Yondu watched him with a bemused and charmed expression, occasionally reaching out a hand touching the mohawk, curling his fingers in the longer hair and scratching the shorts sides with his fingernails.

 

“Hyu are a pretty one,” he said and when Kraglin just rolled his eyes and moved his head away, not even bothering to bat at his hands, he looked up at Peter. Both Peter and Kraglin braced for the ensuing comment. Yondu blinked at him owlishly.

 

“And hyu, no offence, are kinda funny looking.”

 

“None taken,” Peter said nervously. ”Funny looking sounds great, funny looking is fantastic, no need to elaborate, thank you.”

 

They managed to get mobile, supporting Yondu between them holding him under one arm each and shambling down the corridors, doing a whole lot less fun version of drunk man’s walk, if the drunk man was high on painkillers and had stitches in his side. Luckily the corridors were deserted, everyone either getting some much needed shut-eye or in the mess and anybody else who might been about turning a blind eye. About halfway down the corridor Kraglin jumped and gave a startled yell.

 

“Whatsa matter?”

 

“Nothing!” Kraglin answered hastily. “Just, um, just you know, stubbed my toe.”

 

In Peter’s, not inconsiderable experience, any Ravager stubbing their toe was followed with a long string of expletives and colorful descriptions of how they might enjoy the company of their shipmate’s mothers , and not a sound suspiciously similar to a kitten’s _meep_. He looked over at them, Yondu giving him a smile akin to that of the cat with a canary and Kraglin had an angry red flush spreading from his ears and it was with a terrible feeling of foreboding that Peter looked down over his shoulder. All the way down to where Yondu’s hand was squeezing a considerable portion of Kraglin’s ass.

 

Peter had heard the rumors about the cap’n and the first mate but had never really seen any evidence of it, apart from that time when the ship had safely passed through an asteroid storm leaving a whole fleet of Nova Corps behind, and the bridge had whooped and shouted in elation. And Yondu had reached out, affectionately cuffing Kraglin over the head before curling his fingers into the mohawk and pulling him close, face buried in his neck for a second. But then again Yondu had even clapped Peter on the shoulder and told him he was glad they didn’t eat him that day, so he had just attributed it to general high spirits. He remembered being held back by Doc, ages ago and told not barge in on the Cap’n as he was a in a “strategy meeting”.

 

“And why shouldn’t I?” Peter had asked, nine and clueless.

 

“Well,” Doc said, slowly rolling up another bandage “Either he and Kraglin is planning future strategy, and they don’t want to be disturbed none, or they are not planning future strategy and they really don’t want to be disturbed, if you take my meaning.” Peter hadn’t taken her meaning for several years and just thought the whole thing was a rotten excuse for keeping him from doing what he wanted.

 

Even now, as he was looking from Yondu’s hand up to Kraglin’s pink face it was difficult to know how much of this was welcome. Kraglin tended to put up with most of Yondu’s nonsense with either fierce loyalty or an indulgent eye-roll and there was no telling which one this was.  Like, was this bad touching? His mom had been really strict on the no bad touching. Or was this more of a I-guess-this-is-slightly-embarrassing-touching-but-I’ve-put-up-with-worse-hey-remember -that-time-you-gambled-our-clothes-and-we-had-to-make-it-back-to-the-ship-sharing-one-sock? Or worst of all;  was this welcome, but embarrassingly public, touching? The oh-you-know-I-like-it-but-save-it-for-later-kind of touching?  It was _difficult to know_ that was all. Especially as Peter did not want to know and would go to considerable lengths to spare himself any knowledge. If anyone had asked him if he would rather to find out what Yondu got up to in the sack, or ingest a tapeworm, he know what he would pick any day. He would fucking _lean in_ on that tapeworm situation.

 

Kraglin removed Yondu’s hand from his ass with a huff. “Not in front of the adopted Terran, boss. You’ll embarrass him,” he said, deadpan.

Yondu’s head swivelled between them before he settled on Peter.

“He adopted?” he said, sounding delighted. It was possible was just the painkillers talking, as up to this point Yondu had been delighted about Peter precisely zero times in the past.

 

“I’ve always wanted a boy,” he said blearily, still happily gazing at Peter. This was complete news to Peter. “How long have we had ‘im?”

 

“About a lifetime too long, sir.”

 

“Hey! That was uncalled for,” Peter said, deeply offended. “I am a joy to be around.”

 

As they walked another couple of steps, Yondu turned to Kraglin again.  “Boy‘s built like a brick shithouse,” he said with emphasis. “Jus’ what the hell have we been feeding ‘im?”

 

Kraglin only made an exasperated gesture in reply. Peter would have totally made a snappy comeback (he looked good and had worked hard for it dammit) that but the situation had just gone beyond surreal now.  Peter had once assisted Doc while she cut open a half healed wound in Yondu’s shoulder to dig out the shrapnel, something that could only be done with both Peter and Tazerface holding him down while Yondu sweated and cursed. Peter had jumped back the second Doc was done but Tazerface had not been fast enough and got punched in the face for his troubles. So it wasn’t that he didn’t know that Yondu would go to stupid lengths to avoid sedatives but he had just figured he didn’t enjoy the way they made you fuzzy,not because his reputation would get shot to shit when he was all jovial and cuddly. And Yondu being jovial and cuddly was slightly more than Peter’s brain could bear. He still had the arrow and god knows what he could do with it like this. Possibly use it to carve Yondu + Kraglin in heart shapes in the ship’s hull.

 

Yondu cast another look over at Peter and turned to Kraglin again. “Is he single?” he asked, in what he thought was a discreet tone but probably could be heard to the mess hall. Kraglin’s mouth twitched into what might have been a smile .

 

“Well, sir there are rumours of “pelvic sorcery”,” he paused before continuing, “personally I think he spreads those rumors himself, but the boy needs all the help he can get.”

 

Yondu chortled, low and pleased.

 

“He smart?” he asked.

 

“He once shot himself in the ass with a blaster, sir.”

 

Yondu laughed, “Takes after his old man then,” he crowed and patted Peter’s shoulder, his eyes crinkled in proud delight. Peter sent a look of pleading desperation and confusion over his head to Kraglin and got a murderous scowl in return, clearly indicating that if any of this reached the rest of the crew Peter would have to explain it face to face with his liver.

 

“Only a few steps more, sir” Kraglin said, teeth clenched and for the second time retrieved Yondu’s hand from his ass.

 

“Boy,” Yondu said turning to Peter “Since hyu family and all maybe you can tell me why my husband keeps calling me sir?”

 

Both Peter and Kraglin froze.

 

“Um, that would be as you ain’t married,” Peter said nervously and Yondu narrowed his eyes and peered at him, as displeased as he had been jolly before. “Whatchu mean I ain’t married to my own goddamn husband?” he said, a hint of whistle coming through on the sibilants and the arrow rattling in its holster.

 

“He’s your first mate, sir. In a naval sort of sense there,” Yondu turned over to Kraglin.

 

“He right? We ain’t married?” Yondu asked him, his hand now securely placed around the back of Kraglin’s neck in a proprietary fashion.

“No sir,” Kraglin said absently with a slight eye-roll as he fiddled with the biolock and code for the door to the Captain’s quarters,so they could finally pour Yondu into his own bunk and forget that this night had ever happened.  “Can’t say you’ve ever seen fit to ask me about it.”

 

Peter though he probably should have paid more attention, even doped and happy Yondu was a tiger you turned your back on at your own risk. Untangling himself from Peter and grabbing Kraglin’s greasy overall by the collar he all but lifted him off his feet and crowded him in against the wall, hands on either side of his face holding him steady. Standing toe to toe Kraglin was nearly half a head taller than Yondu, just about tall enough that the flat edge of the implant reached his nose.  Peter could see Yondu’s red eyes crinkling fondly as he looked up at Kraglin’s face.

 

“What do hyu say you foul-smelling, skinny streak of piss with a beak only a mother could love? You wanna marry me?”

 

Peter though for one moment Kraglin would actually deck him in his one and only act of rebellion. He went white and then red, making a noise like an overheated pipe letting out steam, but Yondu easily captured his flailing arms and tucked them harmlessly together into his chest. “You gonna make me ask all properly?” he rumbled. “Promise you the stars and the moon too, and all the nebulas in the galaxy?”

 

Kraglin stared at him and then the fight seemed to go out of him, Peter saw him turn his eyes upwards, leaning his head back against the wall, as if for a moment seeking guidance from a higher power. Eventually he blew out air through his mouth in defeat.

 

“No sir, I guess I aint” he said finally.

 

“No what?” Yondu said, sounding simultaneously both surprised and worried.

 

And Kraglin cracked a crooked smile, looking down at Yondu through his eyelashes, fond and slightly amused. “ I guess I ain’t gonna make you ask proper.”

And then there was a long moment when nobody said anything and all that could be heard was the distant rumbling of the engines and the fans swishing recycled air and then, to Peter’s absolute horror, they started making out. Like terrible, disgusting, horny teenagers with no shame.

 

“Hey, guys no, that’s gross,” he tried.This got no reaction save Kraglin sneaking a long arm down to grope Yondu’s ass.

“Guys!” Peter wailed in horror.  


The incident was thereafter known as That Of Which We Don’t Talk (see also Feelings, and Dental Hygiene) . Except Peter, who had never known when to call it quits anyway, went down to one of the repair shops, fashioning two rings out of a spare bit of pipe. He tossed them to Kraglin with a “for you and the loverboy”. He had to scrub the bogs out for two weeks, and somebody grounded the Milano for missions for the next month but Kraglin’s pissed off face was still worth it. He never saw the rings again but sometimes he thought he saw a dull flash of metal at Kraglin’s throat under the overalls, and there was a new box among the dashboard ornaments that rattled suspiciously.

**Author's Note:**

> Its my head cannon that Kraglin and Yondu is the worst kept secret on the ship and everyone already knows its only that Peter is too self-involved to notice. They are the worst at keeping it on the down low the crew just keep determinedly ignoring it. Like, loud sex noises coming from the engine room? Fans sure are loud today. They sure are. Yondu accidentally calling Kraglin babe on the bridge? Five minutes of embarrassed silence and then everyone pretending that's completely normal, the navigator keeps calling the helmsman sweetheart.


End file.
